A Galaxy Far, Far Away
by Syl
Summary: Dick Grayson's "uncle," John Sheppard, is unaware of the Wayne family business. That's only fair, since Dick is unaware of his uncle's job.


**Summary:** Dick Grayson's "uncle," John Sheppard, is unaware of the Wayne family business. That's only fair, since Dick is unaware of his uncle's job.

A Galaxy Far, Far Away

By Syl Francis

~ / ~ / ~

Dicky could hear the faint strains of the string quintet playing downstairs in the grand ballroom. He sat up in bed and looked at the bedside clock. It was 12:00 a.m. and way past his bedtime, but he couldn't sleep. It was so hard since that terrible night at the circus when his parents, the Flying Graysons, fell to their deaths. He knew that his parents were gone forever, but he was only eight years old and newly arrived at Wayne Manor, and he couldn't help missing them terribly. Bruce and Alfred were nice enough, but they weren't his mom and dad. Besides, they were awfully busy and never seemed to have time for him. He sniffled and wiped his eyes with his pajama sleeve.

Slipping out from under the covers, Dicky put on his sneakers and grabbed a sweatshirt from one of the drawers in the closet. Deciding he would be warm enough, he went to the French doors and walked out onto his balcony. From outside, the sounds of laughter and the background murmur of dozens of conversations wafted in the late evening breeze.

He shivered slightly from the damp coolness rolling in from the nearby Gotham River. The young acrobat easily vaulted onto the metal railing and made his way nimbly up to the manor roof. He found a comfortable spot, which was semi-protected from the cool breeze, and sat down in a tight huddle. The lights of Gotham City twinkled in the distance like an earth-bound constellation that fell from the sky.

A throat being cleared behind him was the first warning that he wasn't alone. "Oh, I'm sorry." The voice was a soft drawl. "I didn't realize this gable was already taken. Here, let me find another spot."

"No, it's okay," Dicky said. He could make out a shadowy form in the darkness. "I don't mind. It's not my roof anyway…It's Bruce's."

"Ah, yes…good ol' Cousin Brucie," the voice said dryly.

Dicky's eyes narrowed. "Don't you like Bruce?" he asked.

"He's all right," the dark shadow said with a shrug. "Don't mind me."

"You said, _Cousin Brucie_. Are you really Bruce's cousin?"

"Yeah…I'm John Sheppard by the way." At that moment, the moon peeked out from behind its cloud cover and illuminated the manor grounds. Sheppard's features were spotlighted for a brief moment, his military insignia and ribbons glinting brightly, before the moon slipped back behind the clouds.

"I'm Richard Grayson, but everybody calls me Dicky. I'm happy to meet you, Mr. Sheppard."

Sheppard reached across in the darkness to shake hands. "I'm pleased to meet you, Dicky, and that's Captain Sheppard, U.S. Air Force."

"Are you a pilot?" Dicky asked excitedly.

"Sure am."

"Wow…what kind of planes do you fly?"

"I'm qualified in several types of aircraft. I've flown Falcons, Osprey, helicopters, and a few others."

Dicky could almost hear the smile in the man's voice as he talked. Flying was obviously something he loved. It was something they had in common. At the thought of his own flying days being over, Dicky grew still and looked away. He didn't want to think about the Flying Graysons just then. He was tired of crying and feeling sad. Unfortunately, his rollercoaster emotions chose that moment to break down and the tears fell unabated. The sudden sniffle and muffled sob gave him away despite his best efforts to hold it back.

"Hey! Uh…um—are you…um…all…um, okay, there?" Sheppard struggled to get the question out. Seriously, he was helpless when it came to talking about feelings. All the Sheppard men were. "Was it something I…um, I said?"

Dicky shook his head. "Sorry…it's just hard sometimes, I guess."

Sheppard had moved up until he was sitting next to the boy. Somewhat hesitant, he placed an arm around Dicky and lightly squeezed his shoulder. "Would you…um—" He waved his arm awkwardly. "—Want to—you know…um, talk?" Sheppard grimaced in the dark and sighed. What was he doing?

Dicky sensed the other's reluctance to talk, but he really needed to get it off his chest. "It's just that…it isn't fair. Mom and dad never hurt anybody. That man Zucco—why did he have to kill them?"

Sheppard went still. _Of course_. He was such an idiot. His dad had told him and his brother Dave that Bruce had adopted an orphaned circus acrobat, and he had explained the circumstances surrounding the adoption. The boy's parents had been killed in front of him, just like Bruce's parents had been killed in front of _him_. Bruce probably couldn't help empathizing with Dicky from the get go.

"Although," Patrick Sheppard had added snidely, "there's no one Earth more unsuited to the role of guardian to a child than Bruce Wayne."

Sheppard felt a sudden burning rage inside him to find this Zucco and beat him until he was tired. "Hey…you don't have to talk about it. I understand."

Dicky nodded. It took awhile, but eventually he was able to speak again without breaking down. "Captain Sheppard…what's it like? Up there?"

Sheppard held Dicky a little closer to him. "Hey…we're family, remember? None of this Captain Sheppard stuff. Call me Uncle John."

"But, you're not really my uncle," Dicky protested.

"Know what I think? I think that a guy just can't have too many uncles."

"How come?"

"Because whenever Dad's busy—and he will be—it's great to have an uncle to take you to really cool places—like a ball game or the Air and Space Museum."

Dicky smiled. "Okay, Uncle John. So…what's it like? Flying, I mean."

"Flying is just about the greatest thing in the world," Sheppard said feelingly. "The sense of freedom, of rightness…" Sheppard paused almost helplessly. "I don't know. It's hard to put into words, I guess."

"I understand," Dicky said. "I guess that's how I felt when I was up on the trapeze with my mom and dad—a sense that everything is right with the world, that up there was the place I was meant to be."

"Exactly." Sheppard looked down on his adopted nephew's dark head. _Cousin Brucie, I sure hope you know what you're doing, taking in a great kid like this._

~ / ~ / ~

The next time Sheppard visited, he was amazed at the changes in the Wayne household. It was three years later, and he was on his way to his next duty assignment: Afghanistan. The War on Terror was going full throttle. He had been promoted to major the previous year, and his black ops missions had kept him extremely busy, hopping from one global hot spot to another, usually with little to no downtime.

Of course, his marriage had suffered for it. The divorce shouldn't have come as a surprise to him, but seriously…? Sheppard honestly hadn't seen it coming. He had been so happy with how his life was turning out—his career, his beautiful wife, everything. Unfortunately, Nancy hadn't seen their marriage in quite the same way he had, so rather than have it drag out through court, he'd signed the no contest papers and walked away. His entire family had all voiced their disappointment in him over his failed marriage as well as their disapproval over his career choice.

About the only positive note in the whole debacle was a sweet, hand written note from Dicky expressing his sadness that Uncle John and Aunt Nancy were no longer going to be together. He had drawn a picture of a figure doing a handstand on the back of an elephant, and the caption, "_Smile when you are low. Love, Dicky."_

Getting out of the taxi, he paid the fare, and then walked up the marble portico to the front door, which opened before he could ring the doorbell. A small dynamo flew at almost Mach speed toward him.

"Uncle John!" Dick yelled excitedly. "I thought you weren't getting here till tomorrow!"

"Well, I got so excited at the prospect of some of that turkey with all the trimmings," John said as he picked the boy up and swung him in a full circle, "that I decided I had to get here a day early, so that Cousin Brucie didn't eat all the best parts by himself."

"We would've saved you some," Dick said in all earnestness. "I promise."

"Oh…I have no doubt you would've done your best, Dicky. But you see, I've known Bruce since we were this high." He held his hand on or about knee high. "So, I know he can be real tricky when he wants to be."

Dicky's eyes had widened momentarily in surprise. Did Sheppard know the family secret? Then, comprehension dawning that his uncle was just kidding, Dicky laughed along with him.

From Dicky's infrequent letters, Sheppard knew that although the boy still missed his parents, he was no longer grieving. In fact, in the next few days, Dicky proved to be such a different boy that Sheppard at first thought that Bruce had exchanged him for a new one.

Apparently, Dicky's true personality had emerged with time and healing. He exuded a lightness and effervescence that seemed to chase away the murky darkness that had enshrouded Wayne manor for so long. In fact, during his brief stay over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, Sheppard noticed that previously closed curtains had been drawn to welcome the sunlight, and windows that had heretofore been shut against the outside were now opened to let in some fresh air to help dissipate the general gloom that had pervaded the grand old home.

Taking long strolls around the manor grounds with Bruce and Dicky, Sheppard had been taken by Dicky's easy, nonstop talking about just anything that came to mind. He observed his cousin's fond tolerance of the boy's need to be constantly on the move. Sheppard felt like he had run a marathon after spending the morning watching Dicky go a mile a minute, whether through words or actions.

"Is he _always_ like this?" Sheppard asked, jutting his chin in Dicky's general direction.

Bruce gave him a half-smile. "You should see him during spring and summer. There is no stopping him. The boy's a freight train."

A few days later, Sheppard was saying goodbye. They all knew that he would be heading toward a very dangerous war zone, so it was a fairly subdued group that stood at the bottom step of the manor's front entrance as Sheppard's bags were loaded onto the taxi. He turned and smiled at each of them in turn.

"Alfred, thank you for the wonderful Thanksgiving dinner and the twenty-eleven other amazing things that you do."

"My pleasure as always, Master John."

"Bruce? Thanks for inviting me." Sheppard looked rueful. "Dad and Dave are…" He grimaced and shrugged. "You know." Bruce nodded in understanding. He did indeed know what the Sheppard men were like—stubborn—John included. The two cousins shook hands.

"Any time, John. You're family and always welcome here."

Sheppard nodded gratefully. Finally, he turned to Dicky. The small boy was obviously trying very hard not to cry, but his great big blue eyes looked like one of those exaggerated eyes of a Manga cartoon figure. And right now they were bright with unshed tears. Sheppard bent down, and he was immediately caught within Dicky's two strong arms around his neck. _The boy sure has a grip on him,_ he thought. _Must be his circus upbringing_.

"Be careful, Uncle John," he whispered fiercely. "Please come back. I love you."

The final three words choked Sheppard almost to the point of being unable to respond. But at last, he gave Dicky a return squeeze and replied just as intensely, "I love you, too, buddy. You take care of Bruce and Alfred while I'm gone, okay?"

"I will, Uncle John. I promise. Cross my heart." With these words, Dicky reluctantly released the death grip he had on Sheppard, and leaned back into Bruce who had been standing behind him, waiting patiently for him to say his final goodbyes.

Before the year was out, Sheppard would disobey orders, receive a black mark in his record, and be shipped to Antarctica to finish out his service, ferrying VIPs to and from a super-secret base. Then after outsmarting a smart drone and saving the life of General Jack O'Neill in the process, only to top it off by activating the Ancient weapons chair inside the super-secret base, Sheppard literally fell off the face of the earth…

~ / ~ / ~

Sheppard and Rodney McKay entered the off-base coffee shop. As usual McKay was talking a mile a minute about such esoteric subjects as wormholes, _Zed_-PMs, and Atlantis.

Sheppard gave him a dark glare, that practically shouted without words, _What part of Top Secret did you not understand? _McKay glared back, and then took a look around as if realizing where they were and quickly deflated. Crossing his arms, he gave an annoyed huff and hurried to the end of the line.

As Sheppard waited behind McKay, he caught a glimpse of the young man working behind the counter. Eyes narrowing, he looked closer, taking in the very familiar features. When the barista looked up and smiled at him, Sheppard's eyes widened. There was only one person he knew with eyes that particular color blue.

"Dicky?" he asked uncertainly.

At his question, the young man's eyes instantly lasered in on his. "Uncle John?" he whispered. He looked just as shocked as Sheppard did.

"It _is_ you!"

"I don't _believe_ it!"

They spoke simultaneously, and then proceeded to talk over each other.

"What are you doing here?" Sheppard finally managed. He waved vaguely, taking in the young man's standing behind the bar, and quite possibly his being in Colorado Springs, which was several hundred miles from his home in Gotham City.

"I could ask you the same thing!" The young man returned with a smile. "And please…it's Dick or Richard. I'm a little too old for Dicky."

Sheppard smirked. "You'll never be too old, kiddo," he said with a shake of the head. "And my Alma Mater is here, remember? A little school known as the Air Force Academy?"

Dick smiled. "I seem to recall someone mentioning that a couple times." Noticing the growing line, he put up his hand. "Look...I get off in a few minutes. Let me get these good people taken care of then I'll join you."

"Sounds like a plan, buddy." Sheppard gave Dick their drink orders, paid and moved to the pickup window.

"Sheppard, I didn't know you had a nephew," McKay said once they sat down. Sheppard shrugged and McKay rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes…I know. The great mystery that is our Colonel John Sheppard has once again reared its ugly head." McKay shook his head. "I don't see why you feel a need to keep your family a secret." He was about to take a sip of his drink, when he stopped. "Wait…he's not a criminal or anything is he? You haven't invited a serial killer to our table and endangered us…me especially. I mean, the world could probably keep going without you, Colonel, but I'm really important to the security and safety—"

There was chuckle behind them. "Does he always go on like this?" Dick asked, indicating the agitated man. At his words, Sheppard stood and in a move that was totally unprecedented in McKay's memory, he hugged the young man. As he looked on, McKay's mouth was making a very good imitation of a fish out of water.

Sheppard broke the contact first, embarrassed at his public display of affection. Dick smirked knowingly, an expression that was so Sheppard-like that McKay would be shocked to know that it was actually someone else whom he was imitating.

"Uncle John, it's been what…five, six years since—?"

Sheppard nodded. "Closer to six," he said. He waved at one of the empty chairs, and they both sat down.

"How's—?" Sheppard began, as always tongue-tied when required to make small talk.

Dick grinned, greatly amused by him. For as long as Dick had known him, Sheppard was notoriously bad at expressing his feelings or asking about others. Dick didn't mind. It was the first thing he'd figured out about his surrogate uncle, and one of the traits he found to be the most endearing. Sheppard was so much like Bruce in some ways, and yet, so different in others. But, since the two men were cousins, Dick figured blood would tell.

"Bruce is good," Dick said. He sipped his coffee, his eyes on his uncle over the brim.

"Good…that's good," Sheppard managed. "And…how's, um…?"

"Alfred's good, too."

"Ah…well, that's, um…good. I—"

"Yes, yes, Sheppard!" McKay interrupted. "The kid's family is good. Everyone's good. We're all good, too!"

"McKay! What the hell?" Sheppard snapped irritated.

"Sorry, just trying to get this conversation going before it dies of ossification!"

Dick spewed his drink and went into a coughing jag. Sheppard pounded him a couple of times, before the younger man waved him to stop. "Sorry, Uncle John," he said with a chuckle, "but you haven't changed a bit. You're the only man I know who's worse than Bruce at making idle conversation." He laughed outright. "I haven't seen you in six years and that's the best you can do?"

Sheppard scrunched his face in a pained grimace. "Sorry…"

McKay rolled his eyes. "How about you let me?" He totally ignored Sheppard's look of warning. "So…um John's, uh, nephew… Since Sheppard here is too ill-mannered to introduce us—"

"Whoa! Rodney McKay is calling someone else ill-mannered?" Sheppard interrupted. "Now I've heard everything."

"I'm M. Rodney McKay, Ph.D., Ph.D., Ph.D." He nodded with a beatific smile. "Yes, that's three Ph.D.'s after my name. In real science…not the soft sciences or what have you."

"Oh, brother," Sheppard muttered. He turned an innocent look at Rodney who had glowered at the interruption. Sheppard glanced over at his surrogate nephew and smiled at the boy's amused expression. It looked like living with Bruce in Gotham City hadn't managed to dampen the boy's inner light. He still seemed to glow with enough wattage to rival a ZPM. As McKay droned on about himself, Sheppard quickly tuned him out and instead kept studying the young man next to him, so much the opposite of his serious foster father, yet so much his true son.

Sheppard had met his eight-year-old cousin Bruce at his parents' funeral. He had felt real bad for little Cousin Brucie. At the time he couldn't imagine what it must feel like to lose one of his parents, let alone both at the same time.

Through the years, he'd gotten to know Bruce a little better, mostly during summer holidays and shared vacations. Bruce had always been quiet and a bit too intense in Sheppard's mind. He remembered once coming up on him before dawn on the backyard deck. Bruce was going through a kata, his eyes closed, completely focused on his actions. Sheppard thought to tease him at first, but on seeing the look of dark intensity on his face, he decided that it was best to leave him alone.

_Yep. Dicky was sure the best thing to have ever happened to his cousin._

"So…Dick, what are you doing out here in Colorado?" Sheppard asked. "It's not exactly next door to Gotham."

Dick shook his head, his normally open expression suddenly closed off. "Something happened, Uncle John. A friend of mine…died recently. I had to take a break from everything, you know? Bruce was gone for almost a year, and I had to…well, a lot of people were relying on me, and then…" He shook his head. "It's been a tough year, but I think that things are finally beginning to—"

"Oops! No! Catch it!" McKay shouted as he fumbled with a strange device that he had accidentally dropped after someone bumped into him. He almost caught it, but then dropped it again. As it went flying from McKay's hands, Dick easily made a grab for it and snatched it before it hit the floor. As soon as he caught it, the device began to glow brightly in his hand. What was obviously a screen suddenly started scrolling data at a mile a minute, too fast for the human eye to follow.

"What the hell?" Sheppard muttered. "Dicky…?" He stared wide-eyed at the device in Dick's hand and then at his nephew. He then turned to glare balefully at McKay. "What did you do, McKay?" he growled.

"What do you mean…what did _I_ do?" McKay protested. "He _caught_ it!"

"You did that on purpose, didn't you? You just had see if—"

"Uncle John?" Dick looked at Sheppard in confusion. "What's going on? What is this thing?" He closed his eyes momentarily. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" McKay asked fascinated.

"That? That music… At least, I think it's music…" Dick closed his eyes, as if listening to something only he could hear.

Sheppard was staring at his nephew, unsure about how to proceed when he suddenly noticed that they were becoming the center of attention. Reaching across to Dick, he gently removed the Ancient device from his hand. Dick sat still for a few moments longer. At last, his eyes suddenly opened as if from a deep, hypnotic trance. He blinked rapidly until he was able to focus on Sheppard.

"Uncle John…what happened?"

By way of answer, Sheppard stood and offered Dick a hand up. "Let's go, buddy. We have some people that are going to want to meet you."

"So, Dick, is it? Just how old are you anyway? Are you legal?" McKay asked.

At the look of shock on Dick's face at the inappropriately sounding question, Sheppard snapped at McKay, and then smoothed over his colleague's blunder. "What he means, Dicky, is are you over eighteen?"

"Oh, and that sounds so much better?" Rodney demanded. Sheppard rolled his eyes.

"I just turned nineteen," Dick said with a chiding look aimed at his uncle.

"Sorry, Dick…I should know that; it's just that—"

"It's just that after Afghanistan and the Antarctic you dropped off the face of the earth, Uncle John. No one would tell us anything. Bruce and your dad tried everything they could to find out what had happened to you, but…" Dick shrugged. "Bruce said that it was like all these walls and doors suddenly just slammed shut. He figured you were still alive, but you were involved in something so Top Secret that you couldn't say anything to us." He looked across at the uncle that he had almost given up for dead. "I really missed you, Uncle John. I've lost too many people I love not to have been hurt and upset that you may still be alive somewhere but were unable or unwilling to contact us."

Sheppard had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm…" He shrugged sadly. "I'm sorry, buddy. I know I should've…It's just that…" Again, he stopped and shrugged helplessly.

Dick laid his hand on Sheppard's arm. "I know, Uncle John. Your dad told Bruce about what happened in Afghanistan, and how you'd been sent to Antarctica in disgrace. But I knew better. Bruce told me about the soldier that you went back for and wouldn't let die alone in the desert. You're a hero, Uncle John. Bruce, Alfred, and I are all proud of you, no matter what your dad or brother said."

Sheppard placed his hand on Dick's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Thanks, buddy…that means a lot to me."

"Yes, yes, yes… " McKay interrupted brusquely. "We're all feeling the love here. Chop-chop! Gotta go…important people to meet."

Dick laughed, feeling a bit overwhelmed by Rodney's pushing and pulling them toward the door. "Is he always like this?"

"No… he's usually worse."

"I heard that, Colonel! You know it won't take much to change all of the environmental controls in your quarters…"

~ / ~ / ~

"Richard Grayson to the Gate Room… Richard Grayson, report to the Gate Room…"

"This is Grayson. I copy." Dick was already running even as he signed off. He wondered what was going on. He wasn't due to be on duty in the Gate Room for another two hours. He had been catching up on some of the work on the ZPM schematics. If he and his research team broke the Ancient data code, they would be building ZPMs inside a year.

Dick's only regret was that he hadn't been able to share what he was doing with Bruce so far. Dick knew that this was ridiculous. After all, Bruce had funded most of the scientific advancements of the Justice League, but the government still had to have its little secrets from the world's greatest heroes.

Dick would have told Bruce everything regardless, but he had willingly signed the non-disclosure agreement, thus giving his word to maintain the secrecy of the Stargate Command mission—and the existence of Atlantis in particular.

In all fairness, the IOA—or, International Oversight Advisory board—was working toward releasing some of the Atlantis tech for research and development in the business and scientific worlds. What Bruce and Lucius Fox would be able to accomplish with Ancient tech was beyond imagining should it ever become public. As smart as Rodney McKay claimed to be—and he was exceptionally brilliant—the combined intelligence of Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox was just as formidable, if not more so.

When he arrived at the Gate Room, Dick was surprised to see John and his team there, as well. He spotted Mr. Woolsey, the civilian director of the Atlantis mission, on the balcony looking down toward the Stargate embarkation/debarkation area.

"Mr. Grayson," Woolsey said by way of greeting. Dick nodded back in acknowledgement.

"Uncle John? Did you have me paged?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, I did." Sheppard looked entirely too pleased for himself. "There are some people who are dying to meet you."

Dick shook his head, backing up. "Oh, no, you don't! The last you said that to me, I ended up signing a non-disclosure statement and wound up in another galaxy." However, unable to stay even pretend mad, Dick smiled disarmingly. "So, what's going on?"

At that moment, an alarm signaling an incoming wormhole went off. "Receiving IDC… It's Earth, Stargate Command," Chuck reported. Woolsey nodded at the report.

"Colonel Sheppard, if you will."

"This is Atlantis. We are receiving you, Stargate Command."

"This is Stargate Command. We are sending you three packages, acknowledge."

"We acknowledge. Atlantis is standing by to receive packages."

The next minute, the open wormhole made the funny, sucking sound it did when someone walked through it.

"Stargate Command, this is Atlantis. We have received the three packages. Repeat, we have received the three packages."

"This is Stargate Command, acknowledged…out."

Dick stared at the three "packages" standing in the Stargate embarkation/debarkation circle. Slowly, as if unable to believe his eyes, he walked slowly up to them and stood still before them, staring at them as if afraid that he would wake up.

At last, one of the packages spoke up. "Hello, Master Richard. You are looking quite well, young sir. Apparently moving to another galaxy agrees with you."

At the sound of Alfred's words, it was if a dam had suddenly burst. Dick threw his arms around each man—Alfred, Lucius, and Bruce—saving his adoptive father for last. He held Bruce for so long that he was afraid that he was embarrassing them both in front of everyone.

The next thing he knew, Bruce was holding him by the back of the neck and touching his forehead to his—almost as if he knew the Athosian greeting. However, this had been Bruce's way of comforting Dick since he was little, so it was familiar and warm and wonderful all at the same time.

At last father and son stood back and simply looked into each other's eyes.

"I've missed you, son."

"Me, too."

"Yes, yes, yes… we all feel the love, Mr. Wayne," McKay interrupted. "But busy, busy, busy… so chop-chop!" McKay was gesticulating as he passed them on the way up the grand staircase.

"Is he always like that?" Alfred asked distastefully.

"No… usually he's much worse—" Dick replied.

"I heard that!" McKay shouted over his shoulder.

"—But we wouldn't have him any other way," Sheppard added as he turned to follow in McKay's wake. "Coming?"

**The End?**

**Author's Note**: Just a little one-shot crossover involving two of my favorite fandoms. It hasn't been beta'd, so be forewarned. Still…I hope you enjoyed.

**Addendum**: I went over it once again and made some additional changes/corrections. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story!

**Disclaimer**: All characters from _Stargate Atlantis_ belong to MGM and 20th Century Fox; while those from _Batman_ belong to DC, Time Warner, and CN; this is an original story that doesn't intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome.

**Copyright:** June 2013


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